To Teach the Teacher
by JaiWong
Summary: Okay, another NPC fic by me. One of these days I'll get around to writing about main chars...maybe. Another one about Tseng, Reno and Rufus, some shounen-ai overtones. I'm back!
1.

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, you know the drill. Chances are, if you recognize any of the characters in the following fic, they most likely belong to Squaresoft, and not me. As much as I'd like to, I receive no $ whatsoever from the writing of this fic, although if you would like to give me money for some other reason, I would be much obliged.

To Teach the Teacher

by JaiWong

"Rufus, sir?" 

Startled, Rufus Shinra dropped the brandy snifter he was holding. Scowling, he stared at the broken glass on the floor. "Who's there?" he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. 

A shadow crossed his doorway, causing him to look up. Standing just outside the doorframe was the silhouette of a man, tall and slender. "Sir, if I may?" 

"Yes, yes, come in, but shut the door behind you."

"Sir." The owner of the voice stepped in quietly, Rufus could barely hear his footfalls on the hardwood floor. Slowly, the door closed, cutting off the bright light from the hallway. 

"Who are you?" Rufus demanded, peering into the darkness. It was almost pitch black in the room, exactly how the young man wished it. He started as he heard a voice quite near to his left. 

"My name is Tseng, sir." 

Rufus spun around, taking care to step back so as not to inadvertently strike the man. "Tseng." 

"Yes sir." The voice was calm, cultured, and as well trained as any the young heir had ever heard. 

"And who the hell is Tseng?"

"If I may suggest a light-?"

"_No_." The word came out a little more forcefully than intended. "No," he said again, more calmly. "No light. Not yet, anyway." 

"As you will, sir." Tseng began walking towards the darkened window. Rufus suspected that he was intentionally making noise so that his position would not startle the young man next time he spoke. "As I said, my name is Tseng. I am the leader of an elite group known collectively as the Turks. We-"

"Yes, I know about the Turks." Rufus cut him off impatiently. "You were quite the organization, to hear people tell of you." 

"We still are, sir." A pause. "And that is why your father sent me to you." Another pause. "Sir." 

Rufus got the uncomfortable feeling that the man Tseng was toying with him. "My father sent you?" he asked warily.

"Yes, sir." The man's obsequious manner was beginning to grate on Rufus' nerves. 

"Why?" He heard the other man shifted in the darkness.

"To teach you, sir."

"Teach me?" 

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm." Rufus realized he wasn't getting anywhere. He reached out for the light switch, hoping to catch the man off guard. Abruptly, bright light flooded the room. When Rufus' eyes adjusted, he swiftly scanned the room for the man-

And found him standing calmly beside the counter, his eyes covered with a pair of black shades. 

"First lesson, sir," he said evenly, "is that you should never enter a darkened room with unprotected eyes. It leaves you at a disadvantage should someone attempt to...gain the upper hand." He reached up and removed the tinted lenses, folding them up and placing them inside his dark blue suit. Dark brown eyes peered into blue for a moment, the dropped. 

"I'll remember that." Rufus' voice was heavy with irony. "So why exactly are you here? If it's simply to take my mettle and mock me with it, then I'll let you know right now I resent what you're doing and would appreciate it if you got out."

"Of course, sir. But that is not at all why I am here. Your father..." Tseng's voice trailed off as he searched for the right words. "Your father made clear that, since you will be the one inheriting the ShinRa corporation when he is...incapable of doing so, you need lessons other than those of academics. I am here to give you those lessons."

"Ah." Rufus said nothing else. Turning towards the bar, he got out a clean glass and searched for the brandy bottle. He turned, and suddenly Tseng was at his elbow, bottle in hand. He reached out and deftly took the rounded glass from Rufus' startled hand and poured it full of the amber liquid. 

"Sir." Tseng proffered the drink with a slight bow of the head. Rufus took the glass without a word, using this time to really take a look at this man who called himself Tseng-

Rufus felt his breath catch in his throat. In the light a thin face, narrow of feature and brown of eye, looked down at the ground. Jet black hair, high cheekbones and eyes the shape of apricot stones betrayed his Wutain blood and, when coupled with an elegant nose and lightly tanned skin, made him the single most exotic, most exquisite human being the young blond had ever seen.

Suddenly, Rufus was aware that Tseng was waiting expectantly.

"Ah- yes," he stammered, struggling to maintain his tattered composure. "Will that be all?" 

"Yes, sir." Tseng's voice was still calm and professional, but Rufus could almost swear he heard the barest tinge of amusement coloring the older man's words. 

"Fine, then. Dismissed." Rufus spoke curtly, turning to face the window, hoping to save any face he might have lost during those few moments. 

"Shall I call for someone to come and clear up the floor, sir?" Tseng inclined his head towards the shattered remains of the brandy glass Rufus had dropped prior to the Turk's arrival. 

"Yes, do so." Rufus didn't turn until he heard Tseng exit into the hallway and was sure the door had been shut firmly behind him. Only then did he turn and collapse into a chair, reaching out to hit the light switch. Sitting alone in the darkened room, he smiled grimly to himself. 

_Teach me, father?_ he thought bitterly. _I know you better than that_._ What are you planning, old man? What do you have in store for me now?_


	2. 

"So how did it go with his highness?"

Tseng opened the door to find Reno sprawled over his couch, the ashtray on the glass coffee table overflowing. 

"Reno," Tseng sighed. He was tired, more tired than he liked to let on, and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to fall onto his newly made bed and sleep. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, of course." The young redhead, newest and youngest of the Turks, slipped off the couch and went over to give Tseng a quick kiss. Tseng smiled sadly, then shook his head.

"Aw, c'mon, Tseng." Reno looked at him pleadingly, his green eyes hurt.

"Reno, we discussed this." Sighing heavily, he sat down on the couch. "Our relationship is over, at least in that sense. I don't want anything interfering with your work, or mine. When you weren't a Turk, it was different. But now, if it comes down to a life or death decision when we're on duty, I don't want there to be anything that would cause you or me to hesitate even for a split second. It could endanger one of us, or even Rude. Understand?"

Casting his usually vibrant green eyes down at the floor, Reno nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "I understand." 

"Gods, Reno." Tseng stood and gathered the younger Turk in his arms. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered into his tousled red hair. "You know that. And I will always love you. But there simply can't be anything like that between us now. Or ever." 

"I- I know," Reno admitted. "It's just- it'll take some time getting used to, I guess." 

Smiling fondly, Tseng held Reno out at arms length. "Besides, your tastes are quite a bit wider than mine. You won't have any trouble finding someone else. You're adorable, Reno. You have women _and_ men following you everywhere you go."

"And you don't," Reno scoffed. It was true, people everywhere of both sexes found the tall, delicate seeming leader of the Turks to be irresistible. Sometimes, Reno wished he could let the women know just how hopeless their position was. Tseng's tastes ran...contrary to the norm in this case. Reno grinned to himself. Lucky for him. Or at least, it had been.

"Don't remind me." Tseng stretched himself out on the couch, closing his eyes wearily. 

"Tired?" Reno perched on the edge of the couch beside Tseng's head. Gently, he reached out and began to massage Tseng's neck and shoulders, frowning at the tension he found there.

"A little." Tseng opened one eye, gave Reno a careful look, then closed it again. "Not too tired to talk, though." He began to relax under Reno's touch. "I swear, Reno, sometimes, it's all I can do not to slap that little brat across his smart mouth. The next minute, I want to take him and shake some common sense into him. It makes me wonder whether the hell he's even been outside Midgar before." He sighed deeply. "And another minute later I want- well...I think you know what I want to do."

"I do." Reno paused, considering. "Tseng, is he-?"

"I have no idea. My guess is no. It's more than likely that he hasn't even heard about people- like me. Or even like you, for that matter. His father's a bigot; he can barely stand being in the same room with me. My money's on that he doesn't want his son to have even the faintest idea that things like this go on in the real world until he's ready to ingrain some of his own personal teachings in with it as well."

"Hmph."

A few moments of comfortable silence passed, then Reno became aware of his superior's slow, even breathing.

"Tseng?" he whispered in his ear. There was no response. Smiling softly, he placed a bittersweet kiss on his former lover's forehead and straightened. "I still love you," he said. "But I guess you're right. This can't continue." A single tear slipped down Reno's face, flowing over the scar beneath his right eye, mirroring the one on his left. He wiped them away impatiently, knowing that Tseng would have rebuked him for his weakness. Throwing one last look over his shoulder at the sleeping form of his beloved, he slowly walked out the door.


	3. 

"First things first. You need a weapon." 

It was the second day Tseng had met with Rufus, the first real day of his tutelage. Tseng found his new assignment more of a challenge than he had first imagined. Rufus was living full up to his reputation as the stuck up son of a rich man. Several times in the course of the day, Tseng had to pause and make a physical effort to keep a rein on his temper. It wasn't that Rufus was unwilling to learn, it was just- he acted as if everything were so _beneath_ him.

"What sort of weapon?" Like with all his other responses, Rufus' tone seemed bored and uninterested.

"Hmm..." Tseng carefully looked the young man up and down, taking his measure with a trained eye. "A gun. Nothing used for close combat, you simply don't have build for anything save the most basic of martial arts, nor the need. A knife, perhaps, but that will come later." He lapsed into thought, staring intently at the slim young man. Finaly, he nodded. "A shotgun." 

Rufus blinked. "What?" That had been the last thing he had expected. A handgun, perhaps, a magnum or a berretta, but a _shotgun?_

"A shotgun." Tseng looked at him, exasperated. "You know, twin barrel, heavy shells-"

"I know what a shotgun is," Rufus snapped. "But, why- I mean, it's a- it's just that-"

"You don't think it's good enough for the son of the most powerful man in the world, hmm?" Tseng's eyes flashed as he spun around to face the young blond. "Let me tell you something right now, _sir_. I know weapons. And believe you me, if I recommend something for you, it is in your best interests to follow up on it."

"Oh come on," Rufus sneered, flipping his hair. "You can't be _that _good."

"I am a Turk, sir." Tseng smiled, but it never reached his eyes. "What's more, I am the leader of the Turks. That's all you need to know." This was where the real test started. Now Rufus would find out that the entire world was not at his beck and call, that he couldn't always get something without first earning it. Now Tseng would find out if he was going to keep his job.

Taking a deep breath, Rufus glared at Tseng, who returned his gaze impassively, neither aggression nor provocation showed in his brown eyes. After a moment, the younger man looked away.

"Fine," he said sullenly. "A shotgun."

"Good, sir." Tseng breathed a momentary sigh of relief. "I will see that one is brought to your room before this evening. We will start the lessons tomorrow afternoon."

***

True to his word, Tseng had the shotgun, a beautiful, well oiled 12 gauge piece, delivered an hour after their conversation. After lunch the next day, Rufus went down to the shooting range to meet with Tseng.

That first day, they did nothing but familiarize with the different parts of the gun, with Tseng drilling the future president until he knew every piece by heart. The next day was much the same, and by the time they parted, Rufus knew every piece of the weapon by name, what it's function was, where on the gun it went and when to put it there. Tseng nodded to himself in satisfaction; the boy was a quick learner when he put his mind to it.

On the fourth day of training, Rufus was surprised to see that Tseng was accompanied by another man.

"Rufus, sir," the Turk leader began. "This is Reno. He's a member of the Turks and will be assisting me from time to time with your lessons."

Rufus raked a hand through his blond hair as he studied the man warily. Taller than he himself, shorter than Tseng. Red hair, green eyes, rather pale skin. Not unattractive, either, not unattractive at all. The thing that caught the young man's attention the most, however, were the twin scars that ran across each cheekbone, almost directly under the eyes.

Curtly, he nodded, then turned back to Tseng. The Turk leader cast a quick glance at Reno, then began the lesson.

Letting Tseng and Rufus take a few steps in front of him, Reno watched the lesson from the background. Tseng had told him that the young man's training had begun smoothing out; Rufus was no longer the insolent little brat he had started out as, and Tseng had ceased to feel the need to slap him every second minute. From his present assessment of the two, his boss seemed to have been speaking the truth. 

***

"So what did you think?"

Tseng and Reno both sat in the younger man's apartment, Reno with a glass of scotch and ice, Tseng with a shot of whiskey.

"You mean what do I think of his marksmanship, or what do I think of his highness himself?"

"Either. Both." Tseng took another sip of whiskey. "Gods, Reno, where did you get this stuff?" he asked, lifting the glass to the light.

Reno gazed for a moment as Tseng's Wutain features were cast with amber light and smiled. "It's over forty years old," he said. "Do you _really_ want to know where I got it?"

Sighing in mock annoyance, Tseng shook his head. "Reno," he started, but the redhead cut him off.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Reno grinned impishly up at his boss. "I actually came by it honestly."

"Reno, you _never_ acquire _anything_ honestly unless you absolutely have to. And besides," Tseng paused to take another appreciative sip before continuing. "There's no way you would have been willing to part with the amount of money this would have cost."

"No, really, I'm telling the truth this time."

Tseng muttered something under his breath about shepherds and wolves, but Reno took no notice.

"Actually-" Reno looked sheepishly down at the floor. "It was a gift."

"A gift?" Tseng raised a single eloquent brow. "From who, if I may be so bold as to inquire."

"Ah- Trina." Reno looked up and caught Tseng's eye guiltily. "She- ah- well, she- I guess she's had her eye on me for a while, and yesterday evening, after I got off work... we went to dinner and then-" Reno trailed off.

"Well well." Tseng grinned at his co-worker. Trina was one of Shinra's many secretaries, a small, brown haired girl, quite pretty, actually. 

"Yeah, she gave this to me this morning," Reno continued. "Said she wanted to meet me again tomorrow night."

"Are you?"

The question hung in the air for a few minutes, then Reno shrugged.

"I guess so, yeah." He grinned sheepishly. "She's a nice girl."

"Ha!" Tseng smiled. "Nice? That doesn't seem like you at all, Reno."

The redheaded Turk looked down at his drink, his usually pale face quite red. "Ahh-" he stammered, not looking up.

"It's all right, Reno." Tseng grinned at him. "Whatever makes you happy, man." 

"Thanks," Reno said, looking at Tseng. The blush hadn't completely disappeared from his face, but he didn't look so sheepish anymore. 

"Thanks for what?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm still looking for your approval." 

Tseng reached out and took the younger Turk's hand in his own. "You never needed my approval for anything, Reno, even when we were still together. I may be your superior, but I'm not your mother."

"Yeah, I know," Reno said bitterly. "You're still around."

Tseng froze for a moment, staring at the young man. Reno shook his head and covered his face with his hand. "I don't why I just said that," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean- aw, shit." He stood and turned towards the kitchen.

"Reno," Tseng stopped him. "Reno, it's okay. I understand."

"Eleven years." Reno stared at his shaking hands. "Eleven goddamn years and I still can't get over it."

"Reno-" Tseng reached out for the younger man.

"Shit, man," Reno clenched his free hand into a fist and gulped the rest of his drink. He closed his eyes as it burned it's way down his throat, filling him with dead heat. "It's gone. It's dead and buried, I've moved on and there's no turning back." He turned away from Tseng, who stood now, moving into the kitchen. "I need another drink."

Tseng watched Reno retreat into the kitchen, then sat back down. Closing his eyes, he sat unmoving, listening to the clink of ice against glass coming from the direction of the kitchen. When he opened his eyes again, Reno stood in front of him, exhibiting no signs of bitterness and, yes, fear, that had shown so clearly in his face just moments before. 

"So anyway," he said, throwing himself bonelessly onto his couch, "that's how I got it. And I'm probably going to meet with Trina tomorrow, too."

"Good." Tseng watched the younger man's face intently. He wanted nothing more than to pursue the subject, but he knew not to push Reno if he didn't want to talk. "Now," he said as he settled himself more comfortably in his chair. "Back to my original question, what do you think?"

Reno snorted and gazed at the ceiling. "Let's start with the easier part of that question. His shooting- Tseng, I'm not exactly sure how I should put this-"

"How about bluntly?" Tseng said with raw mirth.

"Okay, then. Well, Tseng," Reno sighed, looking at his superior, "you've really got your work cut out for you this time. He's sixteen, right?" Tseng nodded. "Huh. Only five years younger than I am, and he shoots like _that?_" He shook his head ruefully. "Maybe it's cuz I've held a gun in my hand since I was ten, but my God, that boy is the _worst_ shot I have ever seen." He shrugged. "What can I say?"

"Well, that's it, then," Tseng said contritely. "I was hoping that I had been mistaken, but since you agree with me, I guess it's true. You know more about long rage weapons than I do, Reno: is his problem going to be easy to fix? Can it be fixed at all?"

"I think so," the young Turk said, nodding slowly. He drained his drink and poured himself another while he thought. "In fact, I'm almost sure of it. From what I've seen, it's mostly just lack of experience. He's got some bad habits that you're probably going to have to change, but nothing major. If his aim doesn't improve in about two weeks, I'll take a closer look myself."

"Thanks, Reno."

"Hey, no problem." The redhead's eyes narrowed. "But as to the kid himself... well...that's a little more complicated."

"You're telling me." Tseng sipped his drink reflectively. "To hell with his shooting, is there hope for _him?_"

"I don't know," Reno told him frankly. "I really don't. Sometimes I swear he's nothing but a rich brat, then I'm convinced he only acts like that because no one has ever told him how else to be. His father is certainly no example, pretentious little fu-"

"Thank you, Reno," Tseng interrupted. "I'm quite sure I know your take on our dear President." 

"It's not like you don't feel the same way, Tseng," Reno shot back.

"Be that as it may, Reno." Tseng said nothing more, but Reno got the picture.

"So anyway, that's what I've gathered. He's gotten off to a pretty bad start, it seems, but there's still hope."

"There had better be," Tseng agreed. "He's the President's son, after all. Going to be President himself one day."

"To the future President," Reno said, lifting his glass in mock salute.

"To the future President."


	4. 

"Pull!"

Tseng watched evenly as Rufus fired. The young man cursed as his shot went wide, then stepped out of the marked box. 

"That's my second shot," he all but growled. "Both missed. At the rate I'm going through ammo, I'll be able to bankrupt my father by the time I turn twenty."

"I think I'm beginning to see the problem," Tseng said coolly. "It's nothing that can't be fixed. The main thing is, you're not allowing for the kickback, which throws your arm off at the crucial moment. That's why all your shots are going wide. Second, you're too tense. Relax a little, and your aim will be smoother and the kickback reaction won't be as hard."

"That's easy enough to say," Rufus snorted, reloading his gun. "The question is, _how_ do I do all that?" 

"It's not as hard as you may think," Tseng said. "It's mostly just a matter of hands. You need to shift your hands so that the gun rests easier on your shoulder and the movement isn't so stiff. Try again."

Again, Rufus stepped into place and brought the gun up to his shoulder. Again, his shots went wide.

"Here, let me show you." Before Rufus could protest, Tseng had slipped one graceful hand over each of his own. He drew a quick intake of breath as he felt the other man's slender, well toned body against his own, caught the sent of cloves and silver, and the faintest traces of dusky smoke.

"Put this hand here, not so far down the barrel. This one should shift like this, so the weight isn't so heavy on the wrist." Gently, Tseng moved Rufus' hands into the correct positions, manipulating his smaller fingers with his own. "Now keep both eyes open when you track the target, move the barrel smoothly, all at once, don't jerk it around. Steady, always stay just ahead of the mark; these shells are heavy, made for power, not speed."

"Pull!"

This time, with Tseng's hands guiding his, Rufus pulled the trigger and heard Tseng's grunt of satisfaction as the clay disk shattered into dust.

"Pull!"

Again, the well kept grounds were showered with powdered clay. Grinning broadly, Rufus started to turn and face Tseng.

"Rufus, boy!"

Abruptly, Tseng released his hands from Rufus' and stepped back. From around the corner of the gun shed, President Shinra strode into view, his hands slowly clapping together.

"Well shot, boy." The older man clapped a hand on Rufus' shoulder. Tseng noted how the young man flinched under his father's touch.

"Thank you, sir." Rufus' voice was cold, his words clipped.

"Think you're good enough to outshoot your old man?" It was obviously a challenge. Tensing, Rufus chose his words carefully.

"I don't believe so, sir. Those two shots were lucky, I don't think I could repeat them."

"Come, now, let's not stand for protests." Shrina shot an unreadable glance at Tseng, who stood, head bowed, three steps behind the President's son. "Or do you think that your abilities will fail to carry through without the help of your...teacher?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Rufus saw Tseng wince, almost imperceptibly. For some odd, unknown reason, the young man felt the heat of anger fill his blood, flushing his pale face.

"Come," he practically snarled, snatching his gun from Tseng's hands. "Two shots, two pigeons each. We'll see who needs a teacher."

"Rufus, sir, if I may-?" Tseng began, stepping forward.

"Keep your place, Turk," Shinra snapped, turning fiercely on the dark man. "It's time to see what you've really been teaching him." Again, Rufus caught the minute flinch, the split second twist of the otherwise perfect face. Checking the shells, he snapped the barrel up sharply, he raised the gun up to his shoulder and sighted. Nodding with satisfaction, he turned to his father. Shinra stood easily, eyes fixed on the task of loading his own gun. Long moments of silence passed until the President looked irritably at his son.

"Well?"

Seething with repressed fury, Rufus spun and stalked over to the box which marked the shooters' place. He took a deep breath, trying to relieve some of his tension, and brought the gun up to his shoulder.

"Trying so hard to be a man." Shinra's voice drawled lazily over from somewhere at his left. Narrowing his eyes, Rufus held his tongue, refusing to be baited.

"Sixteen years old, thinks he's ready to take on the world. Sixteen years old, and still just a boy. Too young to leave his mother's skirts, but she left him first." Shinra smiled thinly as his son's knuckles whitened on the barrel.

"Pull!"

Tseng winced as Rufus failed to allow for the kickback and missed. He watched as his muscles tensed beneath his white jacket, an angry flush to his cheeks. _Concentrate,_ Tseng thought fiercely. _He's just trying to bait you, don't rise to it_._ Just shoot!_

"Pull!"

Again, Rufus' shot missed, flying wide and low. Eyes hard and mouth taunt, he turned silently to his father as he stepped out of the painted box. Giving his son a patronizing glance, Shinra took his place in the shooter's box, lifting his gun.

"There's still a lot you have to learn,_son,_" he said past his cigar. 

"Pull!"

A solid hit. "Don't get too hasty now, to grow up, to be a man. Get too impatient and other people start to get a little worried. Don't trust you not to get too ambitious, they start to get apprehensive. If it keeps up, you can't be sure they won't end up doing something...drastic."

"Pull!"

Shinra turned and started to walk away as the pigeon exploded in midair. "Looks like you shoot that mouth of yours off better than you shoot a gun." He brushed past Rufus and walked back the way he had come. "Oh, and I'm glad we were able to have this little talk, son," he added as he disappeared around the corner.

Snarling, Rufus' hands clenched around the gun. "I-"

Abruptly, he felt the gun torn from his hands. He turned sharply and found himself standing face to face with Tseng. The taller man stared into Rufus' blue eyes as he threw the gun to the side.

"That's what happens when you lose your temper," he said, his voice hard. He grabbed Rufus by the wrist, making sure he was listening. "You let him bait you, you will fail. Next time, don't let him get to you."

Furiously, Rufus tore his wrist from Tseng's grasp. "Don't you fucking well tell me what to do!" he shouted. "I can handle it."

"Sir," Tseng's hand reached up again-

"Don't touch me." Rufus' blue eyes flashed. "What did my father mean, when he asked what you were teaching me?" Tseng said nothing. "Answer me!" Rufus took a step back. "What did he mean?" he demanded. "What the hell are you, Turk?"

Tseng remained silent, his brown eyes cold and blank. Angrily, Rufus spun around and stalked out of sight, leaving the Turk leader standing alone in the shooting field. Slowly, Tseng clenched his hands into fists by his sides and let the hurt rise from his heart into his dark, almond eyes.


	5. 

"Where's Tseng?" Rufus demanded the next day.

He was standing in the middle of the shooting field, gun in hand, but instead of the tall, dark Turk waiting there, Reno stood in his place.

"Where is he?" he repeated.

"What's it to you?" the redhead challenged him. "From what I hear, you'd just as well not see him around for a while." 

"What happened yesterday is none of your business," Rufus said haughtily, tossing his bangs.

"I beg to differ," Reno said smoothly, his green eyes bright. "Tseng requested that I assist him in teaching you, so here I am, gonna teach you marksmanship. And if I am going to teach you, then I need to know about anything that might affect you, or Tseng or me. And you know what? I think this particular matter fits all three of those categories." He stared at Rufus, daring they younger man to refuse him. 

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Rufus demanded. "You have absolutely no right to-"

"Ah-ah," Reno said, tauntingly, waving his finger as one would to a child. "Keep your temper. I believe that's what you were lacking yesterday, wasn't it?" His lips curved up mirthlessly. "Lose your temper and your shots will always miss. Keep your cool, and I can guaranty that you'll get you opponent every time, even if the bullets are words, the target, pride."

For a moment, Reno felt something akin to real fear. Rufus' complexion had turned deathly white, anger causing the blood to drain from his face. He placed his hand reflexively on his mag-rod, trusting that he would be able to take on a half-trained boy, even if he did have the advantage of a shotgun, should the need arise.

"Remember what I just told you, boy," Reno said, his voice low. "Don't let anyone get to you. _Anyone_."

Slowly, much to Reno's relief, the color began to return to the young man's face, and his breathing slowed. The crimson haired Turk had no doubts that he could overtake the younger man, but he didn't want to have to deal with his father, President Shinra, afterwards.

"Are you ready to listen to something?" Reno asked, when Rufus seemed to have himself back under control. The president's son nodded slowly, keeping a wary eye on the Turk.

"Good. Now, yesterday you wanted to know exactly what your father meant by his comments regarding Tseng, didn't you?" Rufus nodded. "Heh. Well, I'm going to tell you." Studying the boy carefully, Reno prayed that he was making the right decision. He hadn't even consulted Tseng about this, trusting his instincts on this one. They had never led him wrong before, and he hoped desperately that they would not fail him now.

"Tseng-" Reno paused, searching for the right words. "Tseng is different," he finaly said. He held up a hand, stopping Rufus' coming retort. "I'm aware that you probably know that by now, but hear me out." Turning, the young Turk walked towards the gun shed.

"When it comes to sexual relations, Tseng's preferences are quite a bit different from what is considered to be normal." Seeing Rufus' puzzled look, Reno sighed in frustration and tried again. "He doesn't lie with women," he said, deciding to be blunt. "His tastes run towards- other men." Despite the gravity of the situation, Reno had to make a conscious effort not to laugh; Rufus' expression made it plain that the president's son hadn't even an inkling that such relationships existed.

"But-"

"It's more common than you think," Reno went on, ignoring the young man's protests. " 'Specially on the streets. Some rich guys pay good money for certain... services."

"But- Tseng?" Rufus blinked as the initial shock of the discovery faded and disgust set in. Some of the comments from his father and his associates began to make sense, now, and not one of them was positive. "He sleeps with men?" Contemptuously, he repeated something he had heard his father say about the Wutain Turk. Reno felt the blood rush to his face when he heard the derision in the young blonde's voice. Before he realized what he was doing, he had the young man backed up against the wall of the gun shed, his mag-rod pressed violently against his throat, forcing his head back.

"Don't you _dare_ say something like that about Tseng," he hissed, his face no more than an inch away from the terrified Rufus'. "And never, _ever_ let me hear you judge him on that basis again, _do you understand me?_"

Frantically, Rufus nodded the best he could around the cold metal digging into his throat. 

"I want to get something straightened out right now," Reno continued, easing up on the pressure only slightly. "Tseng is one of the most honorable men you will ever meet. Who he sleeps with has absolutely no bearing whatsoever on the kind of man he is." Reno was dimly aware that he was repeating himself, but he was past caring. This little brat was going to get a lesson in morals like he never had in his life.

"But-"

"Shut-up," Reno growled. "You just listen to me. I don't care what your father or any of his little sycophants say about him, there is nothing wrong with him. Your father is a bigot, and I won't beg your pardon for saying so. He is one of the most close minded men I know, and I want to make sure that you know it. Tseng probably woulda left this place by now, and taken the Turks with him, but we're under contract. Thing is, when your old man dies, we don't have to stick around. Got that? So unless you start to change your mind about things, you're gonna be left on your own as President." He looked at Rufus with skewed eyes. "You're a smart kid," he admitted. "I'll give you that. Now we just gotta see how smart you are when you start thinking on your own, instead of with your daddy on your shoulder all the time."

Struggling to release himself from the hold of the mag-rod, Rufus spat out the words Reno had long prayed to hear. "I am not my father."

Green eyes burning into the boy's blue ones, Reno let up his grip on the rod. "Remember those words, Shinra," he said, his voice harsh. "And hope to heavens that you never turn your back on them."


	6. 

The days passed by with little trouble after that. Rufus and Reno had reached a mutual conciliation; in time, they even became tentative friends. After a few days, Tseng resumed his duties as teacher to the young future president. Reno had been a little anxious when he told Tseng about his conversation with the future president, but the Turk leader had simply nodded coolly, confirming Reno's hope that he had made the right decision. 

As for Rufus...at first, he had feared his outlook had changed irrevocably towards the Wutain Turk, but after a while, he realized that his outlook, while it had changed, had changed towards the world, rather than Tseng. After all, it was enormously difficult to remain repulsed at a man so distinguished and collected as Tseng. So while Rufus still kept his words and movements guarded, it was no longer such a chore.

"You're getting better," Tseng remarked to him once, as Rufus hit his sixth straight pigeon. "I think it's time we moved onto other things. Reno?"

"Yes, sir." Reno shot a glance over to the waiting boy and drew a map from inside his jacket. Spreading it out on a nearby table, he took a red pen from his pocket.

"Starting today, we're going to take your training outside of Midgar." He circled a large area in the center of the continent. "This is Junon area, and all this here," he made another circle, "is Midgar area." He made three small red dots. "Midgar, Kalm and the Chocobo Farm," he said. "Any questions?" Rufus shook his head. "Good. For now, we're going to stick around the Midgar area. Tseng?"

"One more thing." The Turk leader took the pen from Reno's hand and made a zigzag line to the west of the Chocobo Farm. "Midgar Zolom. Not terribly difficult for an experienced fighter, but a bit beyond your capabilities at the moment." He returned the pen to Reno, who pocketed it along with the map. "Now, if you'll follow us, sir."

The three of them left the shooting range and proceeded down a labyrinth of corridors. Some time later, they arrived at a small, segmented room that smelled of hay and grain.

"Sir." Reno motioned for Rufus to follow him into one of the numerous stalls. Inside was a beautiful black chocobo.

"Wark?"

Reno smiled fondly and patted it on the side of it's glistening wing. "Hello, Onyc," he said, ruffling her feathers playfully. "This is Onyc," he said, turning to face Rufus. "She'll be your ride for today. If you like her, we'll see about making her your permanent steed."

Rufus stared, astonishment clear in his blue eyes. "Ahh-" he said, unable to take his eyes off the beautiful bird. Onyc turned her head to him, and nudged his arm with her beak. Startled, Rufus jerked back.

"Hey, calm down," Reno said. He raised an eyebrow. "Never been near a chocobo, I take it?"

"Ahh- no," Rufus admitted, flushing pink. "Not...up close before."

"Well, consider this your introduction. Onyc's a good girl, she likes people. She won't bite you, so there's nothing to be afraid of."

Again, Onyc reached out and this time, Rufus let her nibble a bit on his sleeve. Satisfied with the knowledge that he didn't taste good, she warked again, craning her neck over to a wooden bin.

"Here." Reno opened the bin and took out something green. He handed it to Rufus, who took it hesitantly. "Give her this and she'll be your best friend forever."

Cautiously, Rufus held out the leafy stalk, almost dropping it as Onyc snatched it from his grip.

"Hey, easy there, girl," Reno admonished affectionately as she wolfed down the green and began a thorough search of Rufus' pockets for more. "Gonna get his pretty clothes all dirty." He managed to get her head out of Rufus' jacket, and grinned mischievously at the young man. "I think she likes you. Let's find out how much."

Fifteen minutes later, Reno had Rufus perched somewhat unsteadily on Onyc's feathery back. 

"Here," he said, handing the young man a set of reins. "Hold onto these, but don't pull on them. Steer with your knees, pushing in the direction you want to go. Nudge her with your heels to get her to move forward."

"Oh, shit-!" Rufus nudged experimentally and landed flat on his back as Onyc darted out from under him.

"Whoa, girl." Reno laughed as he caught Onyc's reins. This time, Onyc's wark sounded suspiciously like laughter. "That's the President's son you just dumped on his ass," he told her. She gave a haughty toss of her black head to show just how much she thought of his rank.

"Fine, be that way," he teased. "But when the order comes with his daddy's name on it to have you sent to the Snow Fields, don't go running to him for help."

"_Wark_," she said agreeably. She whistled, then lowered her head to help nudge Rufus to his feet. Grinning, the young man tousled the feathers of her head and laughed as she nearly pushed him over again.

"Glad to see you three are getting along."

The two men turned to see Tseng standing in the stall entrance, reins of his own chocobo in hand.   
"It seems Rufus here hasn't ever had a chance to ride," Reno explained hastily. "I was just getting him acquainted with Onyc here. I figured that she would be a good match for him, especially since-"

"I agree," Tseng cut him off quickly. "But let's try and hurry. I want to get a good lesson in before it gets dark."

"Right, sir." 

When Tseng left, Reno handed Rufus the reins again. After a bit of coaching and some talking to Onyc, Rufus once again sat atop the black bird, this time more confidently. When he gave a tentative tap with his heels, Onyc warked and stepped forward.

"Good." Reno opened the stall door all the way and stepped back as Rufus guided Onyc through. "Wait here for just a sec-" With that, he disappeared into a stall on the far side of the stables.

"I see Reno's become a fair teacher at riding."

Startled, Rufus tensed, then cursed as Onyc started to dash forward. Once he got her back under control, he turned to face the speaker.

Tseng was watching him, amusement in his deep brown eyes. "Not bad," he said.

Rufus nodded briefly, trying hard to avoid looking the man in the eye. While he was no longer so edgy around the handsome Turk, this was the first time he had been left alone with him without Reno's company. "I-"

Just then, Reno showed up, seated atop another black chocobo with matching reins. Rufus breathed a small sigh of relief as Tseng turned to acknowledge his co-worker.

They set out, exiting Midgar through a back exit beyond the slums, Reno on a handsome male named Braize and Tseng on a golden female called Sho-yen. Onyc was one of his father's birds, but Braize and Sho-yen each belonged to their riders.

Once they reached the outside of Midgar, the birds put on some real speed, virtually devouring the ground with each of their long strides. Rufus laughed out of sheer pleasure as the wind whipped through his blond hair, his white jacket streaming out behind him. He couldn't remember a time when he had a more delightful experience than this.

All too soon, Tseng signaled a halt. The birds slowed, then came to a complete stop on the hard packed dirt, about five miles east of Midgar.

Dismounting carefully, Rufus wrapped the reins around his arm, mirroring Reno and Tseng. Looking around, he wondered what they were going to do with the birds; all around them, there was nothing but dirt plains, not a tree or even a stunted bush in sight.

"Here." Reno tossed him what looked like a large bag. Confused, Rufus caught it and saw that it was actually a hood, with space for a beak and a drawstring around the base.

"Put it over her head," Tseng told him, demonstrating with Sho-yen. Reno did likewise with Braize.

Cautiously, Rufus held the bag open and tried to toss it over Onyc's head. With a wark and a quick movement, she dodged it and watched as it fell to the ground. Rufus retrieved the hood and tried again, only to fail once more. More than slightly annoyed, now, he picked it up a third time, but was stopped by Reno.

"Like this," he said. Deftly, he took the bag from Rufus' hands and flicked it up into the air. Before Onyc could react, it landed neatly over her head. Immediately, she froze in her tracks.

"If they can't see, they won't move," the redheaded Turk explained. "If they sense danger, though, they'll bolt regardless. So long as nothing spooks them, they'll be here when we get back."

Tseng approached them both, a berretta in each hand. Reno flashed a feral smile at Rufus and drew his mag-rod from his belt. After hesitating a moment, the young man untied his shotgun from it's place on Onyc's saddle.

Nodding to them both, Tseng turned and headed south. They had only gone a few yards when Rufus heard a low rumbling sound. They froze, and the rumbling grew increasingly louder. "Devil Rides," Reno muttered to his right.

Suddenly, there they were. Twin motorcycle type machines rose over a hill crest and were upon them. Standing unflinchingly, Tseng aimed his left hand gun and fired.

"Fire at will, Shinra!" Reno shouted to him, rushing forward to engage the closest opponent in melee combat, his mag-rod swinging viciously. Hands shaking, Rufus brought his gun to his shoulder.

As he fired the first shot, the young man felt the blood heat in his veins, an unfamiliar buzzing fill his entire body. He felt strangely detached from everything, like he was floating. Sounds blended oddly in his ears, merging into one cacophonous backdrop; he heard voices, but was unable to tell who's. Colors swirled before him as he was blinded by the wash of adrenaline. Time seemed to crawl by as he watched the farther of the two machines explode into a mess of parts and shrapnel.

Suddenly, he was back inside himself, standing before a heap of twisted, smoking metal. To his left, Reno, teeth bared in pure exhilaration, pressed a button on his rod and leapt back as 500 volts of pure electricity coursed through the metal body. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Tseng nodding in approval, but when he looked over, the leader of the Turks was calmly reloading his guns.

"Nice job," Reno congratulated him, reaching back to adjust his ponytail. "This close to Midgar, most of the things you'll find around here are mechanical. 'Course, there're always a couple of Prowlers and such, and up towards the north, you'll probably run into some Kalm Fangs." He cracked his knuckles, flexing his fingers through the half-gloves he wore. "Good place to start training."

Rufus nodded, his attention only half on what the Turk was saying. He still felt the heat from the rush of stimulation, the thrill from the pure adrenaline that had coursed through his veins. _Gods,_ he thought to himself. _This is what I've been missing all this time_._ This is what I never would have experienced trapped inside that tower all my life_.

_And now that I've found it, I don't ever want to go back_.


	7. 

"He'll survive."

"You certain?" Tseng looked at Reno from where he sat, perched on the edge of one of the stools by the bar in the Turk leader's apartment. "I still have some doubts, but I don't know if they've any leg to stand on."

"I'm positive." Reno lounged in one of the soft, shapeless chairs of Tseng's he liked so much and lit a cigarette. "He's had a rough time living with his father, and now that he's been let loose in the real world, you'll be seeing some definite changes in him." He handed the cigarette to Tseng, who smoked contemplatively.

"How would taking him into the slums for a day or two affect him?" he asked after a few moments. "Introduce him to what he's going to have to deal with someday. Show him what life is all about for some of the people he's going to be presiding over."

"Hm. Wouldn't hurt him any, that's for sure." Reno took back the cigarette. "It's going to come as a shock to him, which could be played both ways." He blew a thin stream of smoke towards the window and continued. "You could use it to make sure as hell he understands what life in the slums is like, slipping in a few tidbits of your own, or it could be so that he know exactly why him and those people are so different. They're from two different worlds, Tseng, and there's no way they can occupy the same space."

"But maybe they won't have to," Tseng said as the cigarette changed hands yet again. "What was the second thought?"

"Well-" Reno paused, toying with his sunglasses. "I'm not so sure if this is such a good idea, but-" He sighed. "No, it would never work. Just forget I ever said anything."

"Uh-uh." Tseng shook his head. "You're not getting away with that. Finish what you started, Reno."

The young Turk shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it's kinda shaky. Risky, you know?" He took a nervous draw on the cigarette. "I figure we can take him down into the slums and kinda show him around, you know? But then, what if we just kind of- I don't know. Just left him for a while?"

Tseng raised an eyebrow at his employee. Reno shrugged, staring at his hands.

"I _told_ you it was a bad idea," he said, grinding the cigarette out in the ashtray. Suddenly, he realized that Tseng hadn't said anything for a long while. "Tseng?" He looked up and groaned when he saw the expression on his boss' face. 

"No," he said firmly. "Forget it. It was a stupid idea. Just completely forget that I ever said anything." Tseng still didn't say a word. Reno shook his head and sighed overdramatically. "Okay, fine. But, Tseng, promise me something."

"What?"

"That when our execution papers come, you'll make sure it doesn't happen in my apartment? I'd hate to think of bloodstains in the carpet."

Tseng stared for a moment then shook his head, grinning. "Reno, the Plate could fall down tomorrow and all you'd worry about would be whether or not you could get the dust out of your suit."

"Well, a guy's gotta have _some_ standards," Reno said, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette.

"Besides," Tseng continued, ignoring his employee, "you wouldn't exactly be in any position to care, being dead and all."

Reno glared at the older Turk who returned his gaze coolly. "Fine, let's change the subject, shall we?"

"_You_ brought it up, if I may remind you."

"Yeah, well if you hadn't-"

"You two bicker more than any other couple I know, and that includes married ones."

Whatever Reno was about to say was cut short as the doorway was filled with over six feet of Turk.

"I trust that I'm not interrupting anything important?" Rude asked as he stepped into the room. "At least- not official."

"No, don't worry." Tseng shot Rude a glance and a wink. "In fact, I'm sure Reno will be glad to thank you for helping him save a good deal of face. I do believe he was just about to say-"

"Want something to drink, Rude man?" Reno interrupted loudly, getting up and heading over to the bar. Tseng smiled, hiding it behind his glass. Rude's mouth quirked in rare amusement as he took a seat on Tseng's couch.

"I hear you two have been assigned to his royal highness, the sullen beauty." Rude accepted the drink Reno offered and glanced at Tseng.

"Sullen beauty, eh?" Tseng raised an eyebrow. "Where did that one come from?"

"You hear things walking down the hallways around here," Rude said. "Especially when no one notices you."

Reno shook his head and made a sound, half laugh, half snort. He could never figure it out: at over six feet tall, Rude was nevertheless almost unnoticeable unless he made a conscious effort to be. He could, and did, walk through crowded rooms without an eye turning his way. It was one of the reasons he had been hired. One of them.

"Down the upper hallways the cleaning staff has nothing to do but gossip. From what I hear, young Rufus is quite popular in the minds of the ladies." Rude shrugged and drained his glass. "Not that I'd know. You two have better judgment than I do, in that respect. Personally, I think he would benefit from getting knocked down off that pedestal into some real world dirt, but again, that's just me."

"Odd that you should say that, Rude." Tseng glanced at Reno who shrugged and mouthed the words: _This was not my idea_. Tseng nodded.

Rude sat silently while Tseng filled him in on their plans, with Reno adding the odd detail here and there. When they were finished, he set his glass down and leaned back.

"Before I say anything, there's just one more thing I'd like to know." Rude straightened momentarily and fixed Tseng with an unreadable look.

"Was this Reno's idea?"


	8. 

"Rufus Shinra, may I present you with: the slums of Sector 3."

Reno watched as the young vice president stared down from the helicopter. Even from one hundred feet in the air, the dirt and destitution on the ground was apparent. Rufus blinked and swallowed. "We're going down there?"

"Yup." Reno pulled his head back into the cockpit and smiled grimly. "Another lesson for you, homecoming for me."

It took a minute for the meaning of his words to sink in. "You _lived_ here?"

Reno nodded, amused at the young man's surprise. "Not everyone in ShinRa was born like you. I wasn't born into this life; I had to work my way up to where I am now. Left quite the trail of blood, sweat and tears behind me too, if I may be excused the cliché." His smile turned bitter. "I've still got the scars."

Rufus was silent for the few minutes it took for Tseng to maneuver the helicopter onto the top of a building that looked hardly capable of sustaining it's own weight. Tseng and Rude jumped out of the front as Reno and Rufus climbed out the side door. Once Rude had gotten the rest of the details of the trip, he had requested permission to join them. Surprised, Tseng had agreed, against Reno's protests that if they were going to get fired or (more likely AND) get killed, then at least one of them should be left.

Now, the three Turks stood silent as Rufus looked out over the slums that stretched for miles in every direction.

"Do they all- I mean, the Sectors, are there always-?"

Reno nodded. "Each Sector's got it's own little place to call hell," he said, lighting up a cigarette. "Some of them- they're bigger than the residential sections. Ain't nothing to do about it, either. Nothing we _can_ do."

"Let's go." Tseng turned and vaulted over the low wall surrounding the roof, grabbing hold of an old metal fire escape. "We've got a lot to cover before we go back up."

Reno shrugged at Rufus and grinned, sliding down the rusted metal. Rude motioned for the young man to go first, then followed silently. While not against holding conversation with his co-workers in the privacy of any of their apartments, he was reluctant to speak more than a few words at a time with anyone else. Both Reno and Tseng were silently honored at this distinction of respect.

"Where do you want to start?" Reno murmured to Tseng as they reached the ground.

"Let's just walk. We'll find what we're looking for." Tseng brushed back a strand of black hair and turned to watch Rufus and Rude descending the staircase. "I'm going to let Reno take the lead for now," he said. With the exception of Rufus, they all knew that was a notice to Rude and Reno both that the younger Turk was going to be in charge from here on out. As the leader of the Turks, Tseng was well versed in all areas of Midgar, but the slums were Reno's territory.

As Reno led them past a strip of rundown shacks on a street covered with garbage and filth, Rufus shuddered and pulled his white jacket tighter.

"What's the matter, kid, don't like it?" Reno's tone was light, but his eyes hard. "Just remember that you have the choice. You don't _have_ to be down here. These people do." He jerked his head over towards what Rufus had taken to be a lump of dirty rags. When he looked closer, he realized that it was a person. "They live down here cuz they gotta. They're the by-product of your father's manufacturing that ShinRa don't want anyone to know about. And as long as that thing stays," he said, pointing upwards at the Plate, "so will they."

Rufus nodded, but said nothing. They continued on down the street, dodging beggars, tramps and prostitutes.

"Hey, honey, wanna come over? I could give you a real nice time, ya know."

"Like what you see? Lots more inside. Come on, only fifty gil for an hour."

"Spare a gil, mistah?" 

"Buy materia?" That one from a scruffy haired child who looked no older than six. He held out three lumpy, green painted stones. "Fire, Cure and Ice. Only one hundred gil apiece, how 'bout it?" The boy looked up at Rufus with wide eyed innocence.

"I-" At a loss, Rufus cast a look towards Reno. The redheaded Turk smiled and pulled a stack of gil notes out of his wallet. "C'mere, kid," he said, beckoning to the boy to come over. "How about I give you two-fifty for them all?"

The boy pretended to think about it for a minute, then nodded. Reno peeled off a bunch of bills and handed them to the kid, taking the stones. He studied them a moment, then raised an eyebrow at the kid. As the boy made a move to run off, Reno grabbed the back of his collar.

"Gah, mistah, don't hurt me. I gotta make some money somehow. My- uh- my sister's in the 'ospital. My mam's sick too. And so's my da. Yeah, the whole family's sick and I gotta take care a them all and I gotta make money and I-" the boy continued to babble on, backing up slowly.

"Kid-" Reno began, but the boy didn't hear him, just talked on. "_KID!_" This time the boy stopped and looked at Reno, wide eyed with fear.

"Yer a Turk, ain'tcha?" he said. "Ah, I'm real sorry fer cheating ya, 'ere, I'll give ya yer money back, just lemme go, don't kill me-"

Reno waited, amused, until the kid had talked himself out. When he paused for breath, Reno held up his hand. "Jes' listen, okay, kid?" He smiled, rolling the green rocks over in his hands. "Got some advice fer ya. Make sure the stones are more round, smooth, got me?" He winked at the boy, who nodded, his mood shifting immediately as soon as he realized he wasn't in trouble. "Next time, ya might not sell to someone so nice. Keep the gil. And one other thing." Reno grinned. "Work on yer story, okay? Family's nice, but even a chocobo could see through that one."

Rufus watched as the boy grinned back and scampered away into an alley. Reno kept walking, tossing one of the boy's "materia" over his shoulder to Rufus. The young man caught it and stared.

"Down here, even the kids gotta work to make money," Reno explained without looking back. "Most of them'll try to scam you, some'll just steal your wallet. Our clothes, 'specially yours, make us easy marks for them both, not to mention the adults. You're probably the richest piece these whores have seen in a lifetime."

"What about you?"

"Whatcha mean?" Reno still didn't look back, just kept walking.

"You said you lived down here. What did you do?" Rufus tried to imagine Reno as a child, trying to sell junk materia or darting in from the shadows to dip his hand into someone's pocket. Somehow, neither of these pictures seemed to fit.

"I-" Reno paused and motioned for them to turn left into a side path. "Well, kid, there's a third option down here for some lucky ones." His tone was bitter and he stared straight ahead. "Some got blessed with good looks and cute faces. I ain't just talking about those pieces back there. I mean kids. Boys. C'mon in here." He ducked inside a small building, mores sturdy than the shacks they had passed earlier. Rufus followed him in and nearly gagged at the smell.

"The Nailbat," Reno said as he found them a table in the crowd. He motioned to a harried looking waitress. "The only really decent place to eat around here. Taste's better than it smells, so don't worry." He turned to the waitress. "Specials all around, plus some beers, I guess." He took off his sunglasses and looked around.

"Reno?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Did I hear you right? Before we came in here- that you used to-?"

Reno finally looked at him. "Best just be blunt about it," he said. "I was a whore." He watched Rufus' face pale and snorted. "It was a living," he said. "And a good one. I might not have been no good at anything else down here, but I'll be damned if I wasn't the best lay in the Sector. Too bad I wasn't no high class bitch like some of them. Couldn't get anyone to pay more'n maybe five hundred gil a spread, but it was enough. I had sibs to support and they had to eat somehow. Turn a few tricks and I didn't hafta hear them crying cuz they were hungry, and better me than them."

"But how- I mean, now you're a Turk. How did-"

Reno blinked and shot a glance at Tseng, who had hitherto been silent as Rude. Startled, Rufus realized that he had completely forgotten about the Wutain Turk, and that he had been listening in on their conversation the entire time. "Tseng-?" he started, then looked down and blushed.

"You're jumping to conclusions, I'm afraid," Reno said, eyeing the young man. Just then, the waitress arrived with their food. Five Daily Specials and a round of beers. Wait- _five_? Rufus was suddenly made aware of Rude's foreboding presence across the table and swallowed, mentally chastising himself for being so distracted.

"Dig in," Reno told him, picking up his fork. "No sense in letting it go cold- hard enough to eat as it is."

"Ahh." Rufus poked at his plate with his own fork and drew back, making a face. Reno watched him from his place to his right. "C'mon, kid, _eat_. There were times when I'd have killed for a meal like this. Hellfire, I _have_ killed."

Tentatively, Rufus lifted a forkful of the stuff into his mouth and chewed. Actually, it wasn't all that bad. Washed down by enough stale beer, it was really quite palatable. For fifty gil, at least.

As they stepped back out into the street, Rufus stopped Reno before he could continue.

"So what happened, anyway?" he asked. "How did you make it up to be a Turk?"

Reno looked at him silently for a few moments. "You really want to know?" Rufus nodded. "Then you're gonna hafta earn the rest of it." 

"Wait, what? How am I supposed to do that? I don't understand." Rufus looked at Reno in confusion.

"It's easy," Reno said, lighting up yet another cigarette. "See that building over there?" He pointed.

"Yes." Rufus still didn't understand what an old, dilapidated wreck had anything to do with this. "What about it."

There was no answer. Abruptly, the young Vice President turned to where the three Turks had been standing. The spot was deserted.

"Reno?" Rufus cast around, searching for a glimpse of the crimson hair, the pinstripe suit. "Tseng? Reno?" His voice grew higher with each breath, fear constricting his throat until he thought he couldn't breath. "Where are you?" Still no answer. He began to panic now, running through the crowds, searching this way and that, but to no avail. Finally, completely run out, he stopped to catch his breath against the side of a fence.

_Shit_, he thought to himself as he gasped for air. _Where the hell did they go? _He looked around for the first time and his eyes widened. _To hell with them, where in the name of the Ancients am _I_?_


End file.
